Triskaidekaphobia
by Cameron Kennedy
Summary: It's a long way to fall if you're number one. B knew that, but maybe he hoped A wouldn't make that mistake... or maybe he just didn't think it could happen to someone as good as his brother.


**Notes:** Well... crap. I'm not sure what to say... this is the second of two fics involving suicide I've written in a row, but please don't take it as a reflection of my personality. (I'm not emo! Promise! ^^) Just in case you misinterpreted that summary, A and B are brothers in this. And it seriously works in cannon; I don't think I changed any known details about either of them...

This was not written with the intention of making A a memorable character. Instead, it was written more to explore siblings' relationships and to make B more connectable without falling into any Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu traps. (Hopefully I didn't fall into that cliche, anyway...) And I'm not going to touch any "real" or "fake" names that either of them might have out there with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole. They're just A and B.

~Oh, hey, it's L's birthday! Everyone, go and bake cakes to celebrate! :DDD After reviewing, of course.~

Dedicated to two awesome people:  
1. To **Bl00dstain3d**, because she likes B a lot.  
2. To **Mickaroo**, as a part of her (late) birthday present. Love ya hon! ^^

**Warning!** Three or four bad words, depending on how you count them. Mentions of suicide, as well as killing other people due to curiosity. A few minor spoilers for _Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases._

**

* * *

**

Triskaidekaphobia

* * *

**1.**

_...Hey, B?_

_Hmm? Is something the matter?_

_No, I'm fine... I'm glad we found Wammy. He's nice._

_...I think so too._

_I'm glad you're looking out for me. All the other kids are alone. But we've got each other, right?_

_Right. _

_..._

_...You should get to sleep. Classes start tomorrow, and you wouldn't want to have your big brother beat you in all those tests now, would you?_

_Oh, no! I've gotta stay on top! Goodnight!_

_'Night._

_...I love you, big brother._

_Mmhm. G'night._

* * *

**2. **

Generally speaking, siblings are both very alike and drastically different, in the way that genetics sometimes choose to set the course of fate in odd ways.

A and B.

Short blonde bob; messy black hair. One that used calculating logic; one that put his heart in everything he did. One seemingly born gifted; one seemingly born cursed.

B and A

If you looked closely enough, you could tell that they were blood-relatives. They had the same nose, the same boney hands, and the same strange sparkle in their eyes. Maybe that was where the similarities ended; maybe it wasn't.

A and B.

They had been orphaned at the ages of 7 and 9, respectfully, after their mother had died in a train accident. Their father, of course, was long gone: he'd been attacked and killed several years beforehand. They had been doomed to spend the rest of their lives in a run-down home for orphaned boys, but just before the transfer was made Quillish Wammy had stepped forward asking them to become part of a new orphanage he had founded for very intelligent children.

Both B and A apparently met his high standards.

They were warned ahead of time that it wouldn't be a place for the faint-hearted. The whole concept of the house was a competition to be the best in a very literal sense. Regardless, they had still jumped at the chance: after all, where else would two orphans have gotten the opportunity to change the world?

A and B.

B and A.

One with a gift: one with a curse.

* * *

**3.**

_Psst. You still awake?_

_Yes A, I am still very much awake._

_Well, I was wondering... d'ya remember that one song that Mom used to sing to us?_

_...No._

_Oh._

_A, you're twelve years old now. You don't need me to sing you to sleep._

_I... well... okay. I guess._

_Goodnight._

_Love you, B._

_I said goodnight._

_Hmph. Fine. Goodnight._

* * *

**4.**

A, quite frankly, was the golden child of Wammy's.

It was clear from the get-go that he was the smartest of the first generation (as they would later be called). He was a bit of a social butterfly, and he managed to be both the best and the most-liked at the same time - a feat worth noting, because he studied a ridiculous amount in his free time. If he wasn't preparing for classes or talking lively with other students, he usually was teaching himself to play Chopin by ear on the orphanage's grand piano.

Considering how distant the great detective was, L seemed very pleased with A and had unquestionably named him as the next L once he was gone.

B stared on from the sidelines, secretly proud and hoping that A wouldn't get too attached to the title.

However, B himself was a different matter.

He got second place, but nobody could quite tell how he managed. Outwardly, he appeared almost sloppy with his uncombed hair and bored expression (that is to say, he only appeared to be sloppy: those familiar with him knew that he was really quite the neat-freak). He never looked anyone directly in the face because of his shinigami eyes - which not even A knew about - and that gave many the impression that he was easily scared and intimidated. He had no friends, unless you counted his brother, and he usually spent his time sitting in their room muttering to himself.

L must have been wary of this - he was a detective, of course he must have been - but any opinion of B's behavior was kept to himself; B fell into second place in the rankings.

Nobody was quite sure what A thought of it.

* * *

**5.**

_Hey, A._

_Hmm?_

_You're number one - how'd you do some of these math problems?_

_Oh come on! You know how to do them!_

_No I don't._

_...Is this..._

_Hmm?_

_Are you still trying to trick me?_

_Trick you? Trick you with what?_

_Don't play this game with me B. You're trying to convince me that you don't understand how to do this math so it gives the illusion that I'm smarter!_

_..._

_Well, go on. You can do them on your own._

_...Fine._

_..._

_You know what?_

_No. Enlighten me._

_Someday you're going to wish that more people would be willing to give up their own greater successes for your benefit._

_Yeah, whatever. I'm going to bed._

_Goodnight._

_Goodnight. I..._

_Yeah?_

_...Never mind._

* * *

**6.**

In January, the year that A was fifteen, L had one of his regularly scheduled talks with the children of Wammy's House via Watari and his laptop. B was seventeen at the time, and he had stood next to his brother, close to the front. Most of the kids sat close in front, actually, save for a two that strayed towards the opposite end of the room (B's eyes identified them immediately as Nate River and Miheal Keehl; the names meant nothing to him). A actively asked questions - a lot more than any of the other children, anyway - while B remained relatively silent.

Except for those two boys on the other side of the room, everyone inquired L about at least one thing, and the detective was perhaps a little bit too happy to oblige. He told them about lots of things, some of them changing the children's attitudes completely. Afterwards, a few of them were much more wary of the great detective, and perhaps A secretly felt that way too. But however it was, he walked out of that room announcing that he could and _would_ be the next L.

B was one of the few that walked out wary.

* * *

**7.**

_A, for crying out loud, get some sleep._

_You can't tell me what to do!_

_Oh yes I can. You've studied enough for today._

_You can't possibly-_

_I don't care how much you argue. Go to bed._

_Ugh! I really hate you sometimes!_

* * *

**8.**

In April of that same year, Rodger called A, B, and two boys calling themselves Mello and Near up to his office. B instantly recognized them as Miheal and Nate, and something in the pit of his stomach made him hope that Roger wasn't going to talk about L's conversation with them all.

No such luck: their caretaker told them, in quiet tones, that L had thought things over and decided that A and B were no longer the top two candidates to be L's successor. Their respective titles went now to Near and Mello. The switch had, indeed, had something to do with the talk over Watari's laptop a few months prior.

Near walked out with a small, nearly unnoticeable smirk on his face.

Mello didn't walk out, per se: he strutted with pride.

B walked out and eyed the two of them as they went down the corridor, realizing that the young boys would learn the truth of the situation soon enough.

A walked out as quickly as he could, ignoring B's shouts after him.

* * *

**9.**

_A, do you want to talk?_

_No._

_A..._

_What, B? What did I do to deserve getting kicked off the rankings?_

_...I don't know. But being L isn't everything._

_Yes it is! You don't get it, because you didn't care enough to beat me!_

_You think I didn't care? I wanted you be something! I didn't want you to live in my shadow!_

_Just because you care doesn't mean you understand! Not being in your shadow means that I was standing right in L's. Next to you, I would have felt like I could be someone, but being compared directly to L made me feel like I was fucking worthless! How could you put me through that?_

_...I didn't thi-_

_You know what? Forget it. It's not worth it._

_...A, there's something I just realized I never told you._

_What, "I love you, too"?_

_..._

_It's too late to try and feed me any of that bullshit._

_...You make it sound like that phrase is worthless..._

_Don't patronize me. It sounds worthless because it is._

_...I don't... I don't know what to say. I'm mad and I can't stand to see you so-_

_If you don't know what to say, then shut up. Just go away and leave me alone._

* * *

**10.**

B wasn't trying to do the wrong thing. He knew they both needed time to think, so he did what A asked and went out to walk somewhere - anywhere - in an attempt to cool his temper.

Not even ten seconds after leaving, his anger disappeared and he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a gunshot ringing down the hallway.

* * *

**11.**

_..._

_Hi, A... So... here we are._

_..._

_Is it... nice? Up there?_

_..._

_Is Mom there?... How about Dad?... You might not remember him, since he died when you were so young, but he... he..._

_..._

_Oh God, I can't do this. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was stupid to yell at you like that. I thought you could handle the pressure of being the next L. I didn't realize you were so obsessed with it. I didn't know it really meant that much to you._

_..._

_I... I would kill those two kids that beat you out of the top spot, but... I don't think you would want that. You... hah... you always were just a little bit too compassionate to be L, I thought... I think maybe... I think maybe you knew that, too. I wonder if that worried you at all._

_..._

_You know, I... killed someone the other day. Just to see if I could. It... it felt... _good_. I _liked_ the way it felt, and maybe... maybe somewhere deep down that scares me... I don't know. I haven't decided yet._

_..._

_I want to kill L, too, along with those brat prodigies of his. Except I don't know where L is. And... I don't think you would really want me to kill him either. It probably scares you enough that I murdered a random man in cold blood anyway... But that man was different - the numbers above his head were running out, and I... I just wanted to try it so bad._

_..._

_I never mentioned that before, did I?... I noticed your lifespan was very short that day, but I didn't say anything._

_..._

_...I guess I was hoping that you'd beat that, too._

_..._

_When you died, L acted like nothing had ever happened, and it pissed me off. I won't kill him... but I have another plan to prove he isn't on top anymore._

_..._

_He'll regret that he ever made the choice to promote anyone above you._

_..._

_It's been thirteen months... Thirteen long months. And you died on Friday the 13... Huh. I wonder if you noticed that and had planned to kill yourself then, or if it was just a coincidence._

_..._

_You must have been thinking about doing it for a while. I mean, you couldn't have gotten that gun on the very same day that Rodger told us we'd been demoted._

_..._

_I miss you. Dammit all, I miss you so much._

_..._

_Remember what we were talking about right before you died? How you said that telling people "I love you" is worthless?_

_..._

_I think you're right. It is. When you say it to someone, they don't take you seriously and never mean it when they say it back... _if _they say it back, that is. And then once you die, they helplessly wish that they could say it to your face one last time, as though it makes a difference. But it's too late._

_..._

_I'm a fool. Was a fool, and still am._

_..._

_This is the last time I'm going to visit this place. But that's okay, I think. The next time I talk to you, it'll be face to face. That'll be soon. Promise._

_..._

_...I... oh God, I'm crying. I didn't even cry at your funeral, or when I killed that man, but I'm crying now. Wow._

_..._

_...I just want you to know... _

_..._

_I love you, little brother. And no matter what L said... you've always been number one to me._

* * *

**12.**

It occurred to L at some point, long after the Kira case had started, that B had died from a heart attack in prison, and that the circumstances were actually rather questionable. He had gotten B incarcerated under a fake name, and therefore the shinigami eyes must have been used to kill him.

The problem was, at the time B had died, the concept of the shinigami eyes hadn't come into play yet. The "second Kira" (later deduced as Misa Amane) hadn't emerged until a few months later.

But this question had no sooner come up than L had resolved it: he suddenly remembered that all the prisoners rooming with B had been found possessing heroin inside the cell a few days later. If B had skipped the drugs and inserted a needle full of air into a major vein of his, it would have sufficiently made him look like another heart attack victim of Kira's.

L ate a cookie and wondered, why the rush? Kira would have killed him soon enough. But oh. A. L had forgotten about him, and suddenly he felt at least reasonably thankful (glad?) that A hadn't lived long enough to see his brother become a murdering psychopath. He wouldn't have liked that one bit, L decided.

A, the golden boy who simply cared too much.

B, the strange boy who had inherited the shinigami eyes.

If L hadn't known any better, he'd have said that they were both cursed from the start.

He licked the crumbs off his fingers and turned back to his computer before the investigation team noticed that he'd stopped working.

* * *

**13.**

A.

B? Yeah?

Promise me something.

Hmm? Like what?

Well... you know mom just died.

...Yeah...

And that means things might get hard for a while.

Mmhm.

So... I'm here. And I'm never gonna leave. But someday you might have this crazy obsession-

Like what?

...I dunno, I heard all teenagers get obsessed with something. But A, promise me that you'll never lose sight of what's unimportant and what's real.

Sure. I promise.

...

Hey, B?

Yeah?

If I ever leave, for some reason, and I say I don't care anymore, please follow me.

If you leave? What d'ya mean by that?

Well... like you said: teenagers. I might do something stupid and irrational, and if I do, I want you to chase after me, because that's what brothers are there for. Can you promise?

A, you're all I have left. Of course I'll promise.

Thanks, B.

...

I don't like the number thirteen.

...The number thirteen? What brought _that_ up?

I dunno... It seems like a murderer's number is all.

...Thirteen... Are you scared of murderers?

...Maybe... It makes more sense than fearing spiders or snakes.

To fear an early death...? I suppose.

...

...

I don't want to die young, B.

...A, you won't die until you're ready. Promise.

Really? How do you know that?

I just... _know_...

...

But in any case. We should go to sleep.

Yeah. Okay... G'night B.

G'night A.

...

I love you.

...

...

I love you too.


End file.
